


Charge Me

by BigJBonk



Series: TF2 Universe [4]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Cheating, Gen, I'll let you try to figure out what's going on, Implied stuff in the background, Language, Oneshot, People not being very discreet, Saying much else would spoil, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8404204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigJBonk/pseuds/BigJBonk
Summary: Sequel to Emergency Procedure. After the surgery is performed on the rest of the team, the BLUs inevitably find out, and Medic ends up in a world of trouble because of it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to Emergency Procedure. If you haven't read it, I recommend that you do, or else the beginning of this will be pretty confusing.
> 
> I tried something a bit different with the descriptions, so I hope I did an okay job. :)

After the procedure was over and done with, capturing the Control Point had become too easy. The REDs were able to capture the point near-instantly. All they had to do was get there first. Even if the BLUs managed to capture it, the second they left the point unattended, the Administrator would announce that it was in RED's control. This baffled the BLU team to no end.

Some of the REDs, namely Heavy and Engineer, weren't so sure they liked how the matches were going. It almost felt like cheating. Others, like Demoman and Sniper, felt that a win was a win, regardless of how it was achieved. Medic, of course, was very pleased with how things had turned out.

Regardless of their opinion on the procedure, a few of the mercs had grown attached to their dove. Pyro giggled more and sometimes made a few quick mumbles to his bird; the rest were glad that his mood seemed to improve. Soldier tried entirely subsisting on berries and seeds for General Kidney-Mangler, which didn't last long, as expected. He was a man who needed his steak, after all. Funnily enough, there were few on the team who were truly upset about having a live bird surgically embedded in their chests, aside from a few initial complaints.

Naturally, when someone breaks the rules, someone is bound to find out. And find out someone did, only a week after the surgery. The Soldiers had gotten into a rocket fight, and the RED was the one who got gibbed. The BLU thought he was seeing things when a white bird flew out of his enemy's chest, so he didn't say anything about it. But then, the same thing happened to the Heavy and Medic when they fell into the BLU Demoman's sticky trap (although one dove hadn't made it). He would have blamed it on the Scrumpy, too, if their Scout hadn't happened to be passing by to see it. After that, it didn't take long for the rest of BLU to find out.

Two days later, the Administrator called for a meeting with the RED team. That was probably the only time anyone ever saw Medic truly nervous, although he wasn't the only one. Spy found it immediately necessary to smoke a cigarette, not even bothering to go into his Smoking Room to do so, despite the meeting still being an hour away.

"Why do ya think da Admin wants to call a meeting, Snipes?" Scout asked of the bushman, who gave his shoulders a non-committal shrug.

"Prolly has to do with the doves," he replied. "I imagine something like that would be against the rules. She was bound to foind out some toime."

"Well, it's about damn time someone did somethin' about it. Da doctor's a fuckin' psycho."

Soon they would know for sure, because then Miss Pauling's voice rang out over the intercom. "The Administrator is ready to see you now," she said, prim and proper as always.

One by one, the mercenaries filed into the Meeting Room. Inside was a long, beautifully polished table with ten swivel chairs. No one was sure who the tenth chair belonged to; did the Administrator once show up personally for meetings? In the back of the room was a large screen with a handful of smaller ones surrounding it. Currently they were all filled with static.

Each RED sat down in class order in the seats, and they waited, fidgeting nervously, or in Scout's case spinning. It was another three minutes before the main screen flickered to life. The mercenaries could make out a room full of its own screens, and in the middle of it all a silhouette of a woman in a grand chair. Beyond a large white stripe, none of them could make out any features through the static and cigarette smoke.

"I'm sure you all know why I've summoned you here today," the Administrator said, right to the point as usual. No one was brave enough to answer her, so she went on. "Your team has been capturing points far quicker than what is normal. Would any of you simpletons be able to tell me how that came to be?"

"Do da birds got anythin' to do widdis?" Scout asked, the only one willing to break the unnerving silence.

"Oh, so one of you  _can_ speak," the Administrator drawled.

"I assure you, it vas just a simple experiment of mine," Medic tried to explain. "You see, zhere vas zhis accident, und-"

"I don't want your pathetic excuses," his boss interrupt him. "I want you to know that what you did was unacceptable, and I do not want a repeat of this incident. Fix this immediately."

"Er, yes, I vill," Medic stammered, and the meeting ended as quickly as it began as the screen flickered and died.

Minutes later, the mercenaries filed into the infirmary to have their doves removed, and they all went to bed, in some pain but glad that it was all over. They all fell asleep quickly, as they had a long battle ahead of them tomorrow.

But then their eyes snapped open as they heard a blood-curdling scream.

Almost as one, the mercs leaped out of bed, throwing on the barest of clothes before dashing out into the hallway. The screams were reduced to a sick gurgling, and the sound led the mercenaries to Medic's bedroom. Heavy busted down the door, and everyone else tumbled in behind him. They all paled at the sight before them.

Medic was lying in a pool of his own blood, the source coming from a gaping hole in his neck. It looked like someone had gouged out his throat and kept going, as one could see the ugly carpeted floor below through the back of his neck. His glasses were crooked and broken from being landed on. The doctor was quite clearly dead.

"Bloody hell," Demoman gasped. "Who would do somethin' like this?"

"Well, which of us ain't present?" Engineer asked, scanning the small bedroom. Sniper wasn't there, as he slept in his van. The only other person missing, though, was...

"Spy?" Scout questioned.

"Why would Spy do this?" Heavy asked, unable to believe it. "Doktor did not do bad thing to Spy."

"I wonder..." Scout thought aloud. "Da Admin was pretty pissed, am I right? Maybe she did somethin' so dat he wouldn't do it again. And she probably made Spy freakin' do it, too!"

"Boy, I hope none of us are right," Engineer murmured. "Maybe he did it to himself for one of his experiments?" But he knew it was just wishful thinking. Respawn didn't run after hours, and Medic was fully aware of that. There was no denying that this was a murder.

This also meant that they wouldn't be having a Medic for that morning's battle. The BLUs would have a definite advantage over them, which led to another possible theory. Did the BLUs do this to cripple the REDs? There were too many possibilities.

"How about we all try to get some shuteye and figure this out in the mornin'?" Engineer advised. "It's the middle of the night, we've all gotta be a bit fuzzy. It'll be better when we've gotten some rest."

For obvious reasons, no one was able to sleep well that night, knowing that someone among them could be out to kill them all.

(...)

That morning, Heavy awoke, stretching his arms and yawning after a good night's rest. He leaned over the edge of the bed, gently nudging Sasha awake. There were BLUs to kill and points to capture.

Heavy brushed his teeth, got dressed, and headed for the kitchen to make himself a quick Sandvich. Already at the table was Scout. He was usually one of the first awake, despite what many people would think.

"Is Scout ready to crush leetle BLU heads?" Heavy asked, grinning.

"Ya betta believe it!" Scout declared. "I'm gonna bash so many skulls in, dey won't even see me comin'!"

Heavy wasn't sure that was a logical line of thinking, but knowing that he still had a lot to learn about English, he mentally shrugged.

Eventually, everyone was awake, spending at least a little time in the kitchen to eat or chat before the match. Spy used the room to smoke.

"Hey, I like havin' lungs dat work, ya know!" Scout snapped at the spook, making him jump. "What, didn't know I was here or somethin'?"

"Apologies. I've just 'ad... zheengs on my mind." Scout frowned. Usually, when Spy let his accent slip, then something serious had to be going on. But usually, it turned out to be something that was only serious for  _him,_ so the runner simply laughed at his misery.

Half an hour later, the REDs were in the Resupply Room, waiting for the moment when they'd be released. Most of them were acting awfully fidgety, though, because it was taking longer than normal for the Administrator to announce the beginning of the match. They couldn't think of why, but those in the back noticed something different.

"Oy, has anyone seen the doc around?" Sniper asked all of a sudden.

"Now that ya mention it, he's usually loungin' by the coffee maker in the mornin'," Engineer recalled. "Did he think today was a ceasefire, ya think?"

"Don't vorry, I'm here!" a high voice called, followed by the doctor in question, his white coat billowing behind him. "Ich entschuldige mich, Archimedes didn't bozher vaking me up today!"

Oh. He'd just slept in was all. "It's all right, lad!" Demoman said, giving Medic a slap on the back. "It happens to the best o' us!"

Just then, the Administrator declared a countdown, and the mercenaries got into position, with Medic locking his Medigun onto Heavy.

" _FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE... BEGIN!_ "

The REDs charged through the gate, shouting their battle cries. Medic diligently followed Heavy, weaving back and forth and swiveling his head in search of a threat. There was none to be found from the back of the group, though, so the two pressed on.

Soon, they started to see RED corpses all around them. Apparently they had been ambushed, or they had simply been overpowered. Heavy, though, was able to pick up a quiet beeping noise, followed by a series of loud clangs. He peeked his head around the corner, and had to quickly withdraw to avoid the spray of bullets. But first, he was able to see a Mini-Sentry, the BLU Engineer building another one next to it facing the opposite direction. He was being guarded by the BLU Pyro, and their Sniper had his Huntsman at the ready nearby, always scanning for a flash of red.

Heavy, with his limited vocabulary, relayed this information to his pocket, who nodded in understanding. His Medigun was crackling with energy, ready to deploy an UberCharge. Heavy gave him a short nod- with all the time they spent together in battle, that was all that was needed- and rounded the corner, his minigun spinning.

Medic let out a startled cry as Heavy was quickly killed, backpedaling in surprise as the Pyro charged, spraying a wall of flame at him. He, too, was killed, sent back to Respawn in a confused daze. Because he wasn't able to deploy a Charge to destroy the Sentry nest, his team inevitably failed to even reached the Capture Point.

" _YOU FAILED!_ "

When Humiliation ended, the entire team was angry with the befuddled Medic.

"Dude, we lost da match 'cause of you!" Scout snapped.

"Why did Doktor not Charge Heavy?" Heavy asked, more confused than upset. "There was nest that needed crushing!"

"I vasn't expecting you to just... run in zhere like zhat!" Medic tried to defend himself under the team's disappointed gazes. "You should have told me you vere going to do zhat!"

"But we have done many, many times before," Heavy said. "Heavy thought we not need words to attack. Babies like to listen."

"Ve didn't?" Medic tilted his head, confused, and suddenly the entire team was just as perplexed. How could Medic not remember the way he communicated with Heavy? The two of them had been fighting together for a few months. A bond like that didn't just up and disappear. The only one who didn't seem surprised was, of course, Spy.

"Okay," Heavy seemed to finally decide. "Next time, Heavy will ask Doktor for Charge."

"Er... very good, ja," Medic stammered. "Danke." After the rest of the REDs had a turn chewing him out, some longer than others, they all went their separate ways, and Spy let out a silent sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping.

He was glad that the team didn't notice the difference. He would have been in a world of trouble if they found out that the Medic they had now was not the same one that they fought alongside for so many months. He wouldn't want the same to happen to him. That would just be a huge shame.

**Author's Note:**

> Why? Because we need to remember that the TF2 universe is really messed up.


End file.
